The Importance of Coffee
by Eryn Grace O'Malley
Summary: It's been extra cold in Araluen this year. Halt and Will have just come back from a mission only to find they are out of coffee. Will getting more be as simple as riding into town and buying some?    No spoilers. Set during Will's apprenticeship.


**Title:** The Importance of Coffee

**Fandom: **Ranger's Apprentice

**Genre: **Humor

**Word Count:** 3,209

**Rating:** PG, brief mild violence  
**Pairings:** None  
**Warnings: **None  
**Summary: **It's been extra cold in Araluen this year. Halt and Will have just come back from a mission only to find they are out of coffee. Will getting more be as simple as riding into town and buying some? Set during Will's apprenticeship.

**Author's Notes: **If you stop reading this for whatever reason, please let me know why. I really want to improve my writing so if there's something that annoyed you let me know. So please, if you stop reading review. If you keep reading please review as well. Thanks.

I know everyone and their grandma has done a "Rangers are out of coffee" fanfic, but I thought I'd try my hand at it anyway. So here it is:

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It was an abnormally cold winter in the Kingdom of Araluen and people were doing everything possible to keep warm. They spent much of their free time huddled around fireplaces drinking tea and coffee. Everyone wore more layers of clothes than they usually would have, even in winter. Some wore so much clothing as to slightly impede their movements. This would have been comical, watching them try to move normally, except it was just too cold to find humor in much of anything.

Despite these frigid temperatures, the Ranger Halt and his apprentice, Will, had traveled a full day and a half from a neighboring fief. They had been called away from Redmont fief to come to the aid of a fellow Ranger who had been injured while in pursuit of a man convicted of murder and his accomplices. Kaden, the Ranger who had been injured, sent word to Halt with details of the situation and a request for assistance. Halt and Will had immediately set out to apprehend the convicts. It had taken nearly a week but they had captured the fugitives near the Celtican border. After four days of winter travel with the prisoners in tow, they arrived in Ranger Kaden's fief where the convicts were promptly executed.

Wearily, they then made their way back home, pausing only when absolutely necessary to ensure they would sleep in their own warm and comfortable beds instead of another night in an overcrowded inn or worse, camped out in the snow. Of course, the majority of these "necessary" breaks were to make a fire and brew some coffee.

Even with their efforts to take minimal coffee breaks, they didn't arrive at their cottage until nearly midnight. Tired and cold, they put their horses in the stalls and made sure the animals were comfortable before they themselves turned in for the night.

Halt woke late the next morning and the first thought that went through his head was, "Need coffee." He yawned, stretched, and headed toward his bedroom door, wondering if his apprentice was awake yet. At first he was pleased to find that Will was indeed awake and sitting at the table, but then he noticed the glum expression and dejected posture.

"Will, is everything alright?" Halt asked. While waiting for the answer to his question he moved into the kitchen and began searching for the coffee beans.

The young man jumped uncharacteristically at the sudden voice; he had not even heard Halt enter. After his momentary surprise he collected his thoughts enough to answer Halt's question. "It's all gone."

"What's gone?"

"The coffee, we're all out."

"What?" There was a hard edge to his voice. He didn't want to believe that there was no more coffee. He _needed _coffee. His apprentice _needed _coffee; Will was as hopelessly addicted to the drink as his master. Halt turned to face his apprentice.

"We took it all with us when we went to help Kaden and we drank the rest of it on that last stop on the way home," Will explained hopelessly. "I already checked the saddlebags, twice," he added.

"You're sure there's none left?"

"Yes, Halt. I checked everywhere; we don't have any more coffee." His voice held a note of exasperation.

Master and apprentice stared at each other, neither one wanting to accept the situation they were in. They had already been addicted to coffee before the extremely cold winter had set in, but this winter had made their dependency even worse. They had each had at least one glass in the morning, at each meal, and almost every time they came inside from practicing their Ranger skills. It was double the amount they were used to drinking under normal weather conditions.

This increased addiction was showing. It had been less than ten hours, almost all of which had been sleeping, since they had had their last cup of coffee and they were already feeling irritable. Before long they would start to get headaches, which would only make their foul moods worse.

There was only one solution to their dilemma:

"Well, we'll just have to go into the village and get some more coffee," Halt announced. Will nodded enthusiastically to this declaration, hastily jumping up and preparing to leave.

As they rode toward the village, Will was beginning to regret not eating breakfast, particularly since it was nearly noon. After Halt had announced that they would go buy some more coffee, they had dawned their warmest clothes and their Ranger cloaks, tacked up their horses, and headed for the town which stood at the edge of the river opposite Castle Redmont. He sighed. _Once we get more coffee, everything will be alright_, he reasoned.

They were having a hard time resisting the urge to bring their horses to a full gallop, forcing themselves to remain at a swift walk. Halt had explained to Will, when he first asked why they couldn't gallop the whole way, that coffee wasn't worth damaging their reputation and dignity. He had said it mostly to convince his apprentice, but part of him needed convincing as well.

Empty streets greeted the Rangers as rode through the town. Smoke curled gently from every chimney, wafting up into the cloudless sky. The frozen ground crunched under the Ranger horses' hooves, stopping abruptly outside a small building as their riders tugged lightly on the reigns. Dismounting, both riders signaled their horses to stay and headed into the shop. (Ranger horses were trained to not wander off therefore they had no need to be tethered.)

Inside, the shop was warm and bright. A counter divided the first quarter of the store from the rest. The back portion's walls were lined with shelves filled with jars, baskets, and bags. Eight barrels were clustered in the center of the floor on top of which sat an old man with long grey hair. He had his back to them, instead he faced a fireplace in the back corner. The store sold mostly teas and dried herbs, but more importantly it sold coffee.

The shopkeeper got to his feet as soon as he heard Halt and Will enter. He quickly took in the hooded figures wrapped in their camouflaged cloaks and recognized them as two of his most regular customers. "What can I get for you, Rangers?" he asked as he shuffled over to the counter. Unlike most of the villagers, he was only a little nervous around Rangers, instead of afraid. They frequented his shop enough that he was somewhat used to their presence.

"We need coffee," Halt said simply.

A distressed look crossed the shopkeeper's face. "We don't have any coffee," he replied a little hesitantly. Though he might be fairly used to the presence of the Rangers, he was not entirely convinced they were not black magicians, which was the commonly held belief throughout Araluen. Since he knew how much coffee they drank, he was after all their supplier, he had an inkling to the level of their dependency. He worried that without their precious drink, they might use magic on him out of spite.

This of course was ridiculous, but he didn't know that.

"'Don't have any?'" Halt repeated, the slightest note of desperation entering his voice.

"Yes sir. I mean 'no sir.' I mean… 'we have no coffee' sir," the shopkeeper babbled, nodding and shaking his head in turn.

Halt rolled his eyes in exasperation, partially because of the lack of coffee and partially because the man kept calling him "sir". He looked at Will and saw the downward curve of his mouth, the only indication he was frowning since most of his face was hidden in the shadow cast by his cowl.

The shopkeeper also noticed the expression. Afraid that the Rangers might be plotting something, he spoke up. "We should have more tomorrow!" That got his customer's attention. "There's a supply caravan stopped at the town near Fork River. They'll have coffee with them and I've sent my sons to stock up. With this cold season everybody has been buying all my tea and coffee to stay warm. My sons will be back tomorrow," he elaborated with a forced smile.

"Then we'll be back tomorrow," Halt stated with a firm nod.

"Excellent!" the shopkeeper exclaimed. He bobbed his head a couple times in much the same way a pigeon would. A relieved smile spread across his face; the Rangers weren't going to cast any spells on him.

Without another word Halt and Will exited the small store.

"We're really going to wait until tomorrow?" Will asked once they were outside.

Halt paused and massaged his temple; he was beginning to feel a coffee-free headache coming. "No, we'll head up to the castle, see if we can't borrow some of theirs," he replied.

"Thank God!" blurted Will. "My head is killing me!" For this he received one of Halt's rare smiles, granted it was a sympathetic smile inspired by his own condition, but it was a smile none the less.

"What do you mean you're out of coffee?" Halt practically snarled at the head chef in Redmont Castle, Master Chubb.

Chubb folded his arms across his chest defensively, the ever-present wooden ladle swinging from his right hand, and glared at the snappy Ranger. "We don't have any left. It's been cold and everyone has been drinking hot beverages to stay warm."

Halt sighed. There was no point in arguing, it wouldn't make coffee magically appear out of thin air. "Thank you for your time," he said curtly.

Turning swiftly he marched out of the kitchen, Will following behind him reluctantly. Though he too knew that there was no coffee to be found here he had a hard time convincing his throbbing headache that there was no hope in obtaining the precious drink.

"What are we going to do, Halt?" Will asked once they were in the castle courtyard where their ponies waited.

"We're going to have to wait until the caravan comes in tomorrow," he answered grimly.

"I think my head might explode before then," said Will. He meant it as a joke, mostly.

"We'll be fine, Will. It's just like camping without a fire. We've done that before and we survived." Halt was able to deliver this encouraging speech with much more conviction than he actually felt. His headache had finally set in with a vengeance. He knew they would survive, he wasn't so sure that they would be fine.

The next morning found the Ranger and his apprentice tacking their ponies and heading off toward the village. Once again they had foregone breakfast in their haste to get more coffee. It had been a hard day for them yesterday; each had been quick tempered and grim, Halt more so than normal. Their splitting headaches hadn't helped.

With the dawning of the new day hope was renewed in Halt and Will; hope of coffee, better moods, and no aching heads.

Upon entering the shop they found a tattered looking young man in an urgent discussion with the shopkeeper. As the old man noticed his customers he motioned for the young man to sit by the fire.

"We were wondering if your shipment of coffee is in yet," Halt said as the distressed shopkeeper moved to the counter.

"The caravan was attacked by bandits!" he announced, eyes wide.

"When? Where?" Halt demanded.

"We were ambushed just after crossing at Fork's River Bridge yesterday," the young man spoke up, moving to join the shopkeeper at the counter. "They took everything, the supplies, the money, the horses. Most of us escaped without injury. My brother went to the castle to alert the Baron."

"You did good, son," the shopkeeper said, laying his hand on the young man's arm.

"Do you know how many bandits there were?" Halt inquired. He was going after these bandits and he was going to bring them to justice, not only because it was his job but because they had offended him. It was bad enough that a group of bandits were operating within the borders of his fief, but they had stolen his coffee. Yes, this was personal.

"Um… about twenty. I think," answered the shopkeeper's son.

"We'll take care of it," Halt promised darkly has he turned and walked out the door, Will following close behind.

It took them two days, two miserable, coffee-less days, but the Rangers finally tracked the bandits to their hide out in the forest. Sir Rodney, Redmont's Battlemaster, had sent a handful of second and third year Battleschool apprentices and the knights who were their instructors to assist Halt and Will as a training exercise. They overran the clearing where the bandits were camped, allowing the knights-in-training to do most of the work, as per the Battlemaster's instructions. It took barely two minutes for the brigands to surrender. Well, most of them surrendered; three were killed, another two were unconscious. The attacking force suffered no casualties.

The campsite was a mess; wagons, barrels, and tables had all been knocked on their sides. Tents had been crushed in the fray. All sorts of debris littered the ground and a number of small fires were smoldering in fire pits.

All of the bandits still standing, figuratively speaking, were on their knees in the center of the ruined campsite, their hands bound behind their backs. The Battleschool apprentices and their instructors guarded them in case any tried to run. Not that they would, of course, two of the three dead brigands lay with an arrow from the Rangers' bows protruding from their bodies. They might not have been the smartest criminals in the world, but they were smart enough to know Ranger's didn't miss their targets. It was like the old saying went, "A Ranger carries the lives of twenty-four men in his quiver." None of them planned on escaping, not with the Rangers hovering nearby, bows in hand.

Halt stalked silently toward the head bandit and motioned for the man to stand up. Hesitantly he complied. He was of average height, making him taller than the Ranger. His sandy blond hair was stuck haphazardly from under a dirty green cap. The brigand's blue eyes were full of terror at being singled out.

"Now, I need you to answer a question for me," Halt said in a dangerously quite voice. He saw the man swallow a few times, his face pale. The Ranger continued slowly, "Where is the coffee?"

The bandit added a large dose of confusion to his terrified expression. He, like most of the commoners in the kingdom, believed that Rangers dabbled in the black arts. _Maybe he needs it for some horrible spell_, he thought with a shudder.

It was not just the brigand who was confused; the Battleschool apprentices and their trainers were looking questioningly at each other. Halt's question was definitely not the standard for interrogations.

"I don't want to ask again," the Ranger snarled.

Swallowing a few more times, the head bandit looked around the clearing. He nodded toward a toppled cart a short ways to the right.

Will was first to reach the indicated spot, Halt following close behind. Both had an empty feeling as they gazed down at the torn burlap sack and the coffee beans spilled on the ground.

At one point in the beginning of the skirmish, a particularly large bandit had used the bag of coffee as a weapon, swinging it at a third-year Battleschool apprentice. The sack had no chance against the knight-in-training's sword. It tore from end to end, showering the soggy ground with beans.

"I could probably pick up enough to make a pot of coffee," Will suggested to Halt. He meant to whisper, but it came out a little loud and two of the Battleschool apprentices heard him. They gave each other baffled looks. They knew that Rangers were odd folk, but this was downright strange.

"Will, we are Rangers, and Rangers don't scoop coffee off the ground," Halt snapped.

"Sorry," Will apologized, his ears burning with embarrassment.

Halt cleared his throat. "Right then," he said loudly clapping his hands together. "You men take these criminals to the castle. Will and I are going to hunt down any that escaped."

This little announcement caused the knights and knights-in-training to look at each other in confusion once more.

"But, Ranger Halt, they said this was all of them," a third-year apprentice said tentatively, motioning at the captives.

Turning to glare at the young man Halt growled, "You are going to take the word of a bandit over the word of a King's Ranger?" He laid emphasis on the words "bandit" and "King's Ranger."

"No sir," the young man hastily replied, shaking his head violently.

"Good. Take them back to the castle and send someone to salvage what supplies are left here," the Ranger instructed.

The men saluted and started bringing the captured bandits to their feet. They unbound a couple of captives in order for them to carry hastily constructed litters baring their fallen and injured comrades.

"I didn't think any of them escaped," Will commented to his mentor, this time making sure that he whispered. Halt just raised an eyebrow in response and watched as the bandits and their captors paraded out of the clearing.

After he was sure their companions were out of earshot, Halt told Will, "I will get enough beans to make a pot of coffee, you go stir up the embers of that fire."

"So much for 'Rangers don't scoop coffee off the ground'," Will said with a wry smile. Before Halt could think up a comeback remark, the apprentice jogged over to the smoldering remnants of one of the fires.

Halt rolled his eyes and began filling a small pouch at his belt with the precious coffee beans. He found, much to his delight, that he could salvage enough to make two pots instead of just one. Rising, he dusted his knees off and was just about to join Will at the fire when he caught movement in the trees out of the corner of his eye.

As he watched, three shaggy goats made their way out of the forest. The middle goat stared at him while its two companions began munching on the remaining coffee beans. Halt stared back with a slightly disturbed look on his face; he hated goats. After a moment the middle goat joined the other two in their feast.

The grim Ranger backed up slowly, keeping his eyes riveted on the goats. "On second thought, Will, I think we should wait to have the coffee at home," he announced.

"Why?" Will asked immediately. He then turned and saw what prompted Halt to change his mind. While the apprentice didn't share his master's hatred of the creatures, he could only imagine what sort of chaos would ensue after the coffee started to affect them. He definitely did not want to stick around for that. Reaching for a nearby bucket full of water he poured it over the fire pit and moved slowly to where Halt was waiting by their horses. They swiftly mounted up and road away.

The goats looked up and watched them leave, all the while chewing noisily on the coffee beans.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I tried to make this as believable as possible, if I missed a fact or anything please let me know. Accuracy is my goal. On that note, I don't recall every hearing the name of the river that shows up on the map of Araluen bellow Redmont but above the Western Woods. I named it Fork River (original isn't it?).

Of course, since this _is_one of my Ranger's Apprentice fanfics, I had to include goats!

This is a school assignment so please let me know if there are any grammar mistakes!

**12-11-10 Edit: **I added a couple things I forgot, nothing major. Also I fixed the formatting a little bit.

_Constructive_criticism, critiques, reviews, and favs are most welcome!

Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Ranger's Apprentice, its characters and settings all belong to the magnificent John Flanagan. This ridiculous little plot and the minor OCs belong to me.


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